


Hitting the Fence

by der_tanzer



Series: Hitting the Fence [1]
Category: Riptide (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-20
Updated: 2010-05-20
Packaged: 2017-10-09 14:35:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/der_tanzer/pseuds/der_tanzer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Murray’s injured, he wonders if the guys will keep their promises</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Getting Over

**Author's Note:**

> Follows Murray's True love, so any unknown references come from there.  
> With thanks to the Coen Brothers for the magazine title, and Mad About You (where the dog really was named Murray).  
> Beta by Catyah, as always.

_Get over, Murray! Look out! Come on, Boz, look out!_

Murray heard Cody shouting and he was scared. Why was he scared? For some reason he didn't remember. He was scrambling, slivers of wood digging into his hands. _Where am I?_ Then there was nothing in the world but pain. He was incredibly glad when everything went black.

_Nick, get over here!_ A voice from a dream, vaguely understood. _Nick, I need help!_

Murray listened intently, lost in the darkness, but the voices went away. _No, guys, come back. Don't leave me. It's dark and I'm afraid._

***

"What the hell happened out there?" Nick said for maybe for the fifth time.

"I don't know. You were there, you tell me."

"Don't put this on me, Cody. You were the last one with him. Why didn't you do something?"

"Well, I was a little bit busy getting shot at," he snapped back, then sank into a hard plastic chair, all his strength gone. "Look, don't yell at me, Nick. I did my best and he got shot anyway. How do you think I feel about that?"

Nick sat down and hugged him, all his anger gone. At least his anger at Cody. He had some left for the guy who shot Murray, but that man was in the morgue and he had Cody to thank for that. After a moment he did.

"I'm sorry, man. I wasn't helping him, either, and you were the one who plugged the guy. I just—I feel so…"

"Helpless? Guilty? Stupid?"

"Yeah, all those. We let him down, Cody. He counts on us to protect him and we just totally let him down. And if he dies now we aren't even going to get to say we're sorry."

"He's not going to die. God, don't say that. It's the eighties, people get shot all the time and it's—it's no big deal. He's going to be fine."

All they were doing was staking out a motel, watching for a councilman to show up with his intern for a nooner. It was the kind of simple fleabag job they took at least twice a month; the kind that paid the bills and hardly ever led to any trouble. At least not for the three detectives. But today they'd had the misfortune to be watching through a telephoto lens when a drug deal went down in the parking lot and the dealer started shooting. He blew out the front tires on the Jimmy and the three of them broke and ran.

Nick got over the fence first and Cody was right behind him. Murray, however, was pinned to the boards like a bug and took three rounds while Cody tried to pull him over. Cody let go and Murray crumpled to the ground behind the partial shelter of the crippled truck. Cody fired back and took down the drug dealer, then hopped over the fence to check on his friend. Murray was already unconscious and Cody was haunted by the knowledge that if he didn't make it out of surgery there would be no final words. He wondered how they would explain it to Baba. If she'd be able to understand, let alone forgive. They hadn't even called her yet, not knowing where she was or if she could do any good.

"You're right, he won't die. How can someone kill a sweet guy like Boz?"

"I bet that asshole's killed a lot of sweet guys and girls in his life. But Murray's not dead," Cody said emphatically. "He had good vitals in the field, his heart was strong when we got here, he'll be fine. It's just like in 'Nam. Get to the hospital alive and the hard part's done."

"I hope Murray knows that," Nick said dryly. "You know he never went to 'Nam."

"Yeah. Poor little guy. Fucking colonel in the US Army and he gets shot by a coke pusher in King Harbor because he can't climb over a fence. I don't know about you but I don't want that getting out."

"Well, it's going to. All things considered, it's probably the least of his problems."

Cody nodded and they sat there, holding each other in silence. Nick and Cody had been in love so long, they'd always thought they were all they needed. Then Murray came along, happy, geeky, enthusiastic Murray, and changed all that. Suddenly he was as much a part of their love as he was their business, and that was a very big part indeed. Sitting here without him they felt empty and alone. The prospect of always feeling that way was more than either could contemplate at the moment, and yet it was the only thing on their minds.

Just when it seemed like it couldn't get any worse, Quinlan walked in, all swagger and smirk. Nick stiffened, pulling away from Cody and bracing himself for the attack that didn't come. Quinlan faltered, looking surprised.

"You two?" he barked.

"Who were you expecting?" Nick asked.

"Where's Bozinsky?"

"He's in surgery. If you didn't know that, what are you doing here?"

"They said it was Ryder. Must've made a mistake on the paperwork." He'd gone oddly vague, as if he'd prepared a speech for the police convention and found himself addressing a room full of firefighters. "Why in hell did you let that happen? I thought you big tough guys were supposed to…" He trailed off, cleared his throat and tried to sound gruff again.

"Supposed to be looking after him?" Cody suggested. "Yeah, funny, we were just discussing that. I suppose you're going to arrest us for shooting that dealer?"

"No, no," he said, still sounding vague. "I been after that guy for a while now. You losers finally did me a favor." Quinlan leaned against the wall and shoved his hands in his pockets. "How much longer is this surgery gonna take?"

"It's only been two hours. Could be another three or four. He took a round in the back and two in the leg. They didn't tell us much."

"How in the hell did you let him get shot in the back?"

"Murray doesn't climb well," Nick said shortly. "And before you say it, we should have pushed him over the fence first. We should have kept him covered and we didn't and this whole fucked up mess is all our fault. Does that about cover it?"

"I wish I had that on tape," Quinlan said and left the room.

"That was weird," Cody whispered. "Almost like he was worried or something."

"Yeah, I got the idea he was really disappointed to see me. You know, he's been kind of nice to Boz lately, that whole thing with Janie—do you think he actually—cares?"

"Hard to imagine ol' Teddy caring about anyone."

It would have been easier if they'd seen Quinlan standing in the hall, head bowed, looking like he'd just lost his dog. Nick and Cody never saw him, but he stayed there all afternoon.

***

"Are you with Mr. Bozinsky?"

Nick looked up sharply into the tired face of a doctor still in surgical cap and gown. Cody still slept against his shoulder and he shoved him, too rough in his anxiety, waking his friend back into the nightmare.

"What is it?" Cody mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "Oh, doctor. What's going on? How's Murray?"

"He's in recovery. We had to remove his spleen, but that's okay. He doesn't need it."

Nick and Cody looked at each other, the same thought in both their eyes. _Does_ anyone _need a spleen? What the hell does a spleen_ do _anyway?_

"Is that all?" Nick asked, holding his real relief at bay just in case.

"Well, the worst injury is to his right thigh. The femoral artery was torn and he lost a lot of blood. There's going to be some permanent muscle damage, but with a few weeks of rehab he should be walking just fine. I'm being optimistic, of course, but he's young and strong."

They exchanged another look that even the doctor could read. _Murray? Strong?_

"Even the skinny ones can have strong hearts and healthy lungs. If he can avoid infection for the next two or three days he'll get well. It won't be fun, he won't be happy most of the time, but he'll get there."

"Great," Nick said, finally letting relief flood his soul. "That's just great, doc, thanks. Can we see him? Not that I don't believe you but…"

"Sure, I understand. They'll want to keep him in recovery until he starts to come around, but I'm sure you'll be able to see him once he's moved upstairs."

"Upstairs?"

"Oh, yes, he'll be in ICU for a couple days, until we're sure he's past the worst risk of infection. Don't let my optimism cloud the facts, boys. Three bullets, close range—your friend is lucky to be alive. He'll need a little more luck to stay that way, but I think he'll get it. You get a feel for this sort of thing in my line of work."

"Hey, doc," Cody said quietly, rising from his seat. "You said he had a strong heart. Why—what does that mean?"

"Well, heavy blood loss is hard on the heart. Starves it for oxygen, does all kinds of damage. When the blood volume gets low enough, it just stops beating and it can be a real trick getting it started again. Your friend lost enough blood to stop his heart, but for some reason it didn't. You see it sometimes, people whose hearts just won't stop. I don't know why exactly, I'm not a cardiologist, but I'm grateful for anything that makes my job easier. I might have taken out the slugs and sewed him up, but your friend did all the work."

There was another silence, another shared glance, one that he couldn't read, and then Nick thanked him again. This time Cody did too.

"All in a day's work, boys. I'll send a nurse to take you upstairs when they move him."

"Wow," Cody said when he was gone. He dropped back into his chair with a heavy sigh. "Did you ever think you'd hear somebody calling Boz strong?"

"Well, I've known for a long time that he had an unstoppable heart."

"Yeah, and it's just like him to do the doctor's work for him."

"Why not? He does ours."

They leaned against each other, suddenly weak without the tension holding them together, and Nick felt tears spilling down his cheeks. Cody turned and wiped them away with his hand, exposing the wet glint in his own eyes. Nick rubbed his thumbs over them so tenderly it took Cody's breath away and for a second he wished they were at home.

"We almost lost him," Nick said softly and Cody stopped his words with a kiss.

"Almost, love. He's going to be okay. We'll see him soon, and it won't be long before he's back on the boat where we can spoil him rotten."

"What about that rehab? Will they do that here or at home or—God, what if they want to put him in a—a facility or something? You know, those centers like the VA runs? What if he can't go home for weeks?"

"That won't happen," Cody said flatly.

"It might."

"Then we'll go be with him. Those places, they like to have the family involved. It keeps the patients motivated, you know, and we can help mimic his usual routine. Remember Brian Weeks? After he got his leg blown off, they had his wife and kid there every day, acting like it was home."

"Yeah, his wife, not his two business partners." Nick's determined optimism had suddenly vanished in the face of the possibilities. They might be there, but it wouldn't be like home. They wouldn't be able to hold Murray in their laps, kiss him and touch him and whisper wicked promises that made him blush. There wouldn't be encouraging kisses when he was frustrated or scared, and they could forget about rewarding him with hand jobs.

"Well, we'll do the best we can. And it might not be that bad."

"Yeah, it's a couple bullets, not a grenade. He didn't lose a leg or break his back. We'll take him home and drive him wherever he needs to go for rehab. He'll get better faster anyway."

"I know I always do," Cody grinned. "You make a great nurse."

"I have a way with soup and toast, that's true," Nick said modestly.

"And backrubs. He'll need a lot of those, I bet."

"I sure hope so. And from now on, we don't run from anything unless Murray's in front of us."

"I heard that," Cody sighed.

***

"Did your cop friend find you?" the nurse asked as she escorted them to the elevator. Nick and Cody exchanged a glance and Nick was elected to ask.

"What cop friend?"

"That lieutenant fellow who's been hanging around all day. He insisted on having a look at Mr. Bozinsky while he slept. I told him to wait with you and I'd let him back in later."

"The lieutenant? He wanted to see Murray?"

"He said it was important to the case. I let him peek through the door and then he said he was going downstairs to wait. He didn't find you?"

"No," Nick said slowly. "I guess he must have changed his mind. We'll give him a call later."

She nodded and stepped off the elevator, leading them down a long hall.

"It's supposed to be one at a time, but he's got the room to himself for the moment so I'm going to bend the rules just a little. But only five minutes. He's not really awake and he needs to rest."

They pushed a little at the doorway, each wanting to go first, and then froze when they caught sight of Murray, so thin and pale in the big white bed. No one had mentioned the respirator and it came as a shock. They hadn't known that he couldn't breathe.

"What—what's that?" Cody whispered.

"Just a little something to help him along until the anesthesia wears off. Probably just overnight," the nurse said cheerfully. "Five minutes boys."

Murray's eyes opened, but even under the best of circumstances he couldn't have seen them without his glasses. Nick went to him, drawing the glasses from his shirt pocket, and carefully put them on him. That made Murray look a little better, but didn't help his vision any. He'd already closed his eyes.

"Hey Boz," Cody said quietly, picking up his hand. "You're okay, buddy. You hear me? You're going to be fine."

"That's right," Nick added, tenderly stroking his cheek. "Doctor says you're going to be up and around in no time. He says you're too strong to die."

Murray's eyes fluttered open again, fuzzy and uncertain. Then they grew wide and startled, his hand squeezed Cody's painfully and he tried to raise his head.

"Hang on, Boz, don't move. You can't talk. You have a tube in your throat, and you can't move, okay? Blink if you understand me."

The wide brown eyes rolled and tried to focus on Nick's. Slowly, almost painfully, he blinked once.

"Good boy, that's right. You know you're in the hospital?" Another slow blink. "Do you remember what happened?" A long pause and then another blink. Cody winced almost imperceptibly. They'd really wanted him to forget how easily they both vaulted the fence and left him behind. "You're okay, though. In a few hours they'll take that tube out and we can talk about it if you want to."

The hurt eyes rolled from him to Cody and back again, asking the question they both feared. _Where were you?_

Sometimes this psychic connection could be a real pain in the ass.

"Boz, I'm sorry. I thought you were right behind me. I—I didn't mean to leave you behind, buddy," Nick said softly.

He looked back to Cody, who squeezed his hand harder and sighed.

"Me too. I should have boosted you over the fence first, but you had hold of it, I thought you were right next to me. You were, for a few seconds. I'm so sorry, Murray. I'm so fucking sorry."

The wide brown eyes blinked again, slow and determined. They didn't know what that meant (_I understand?_) but Murray did. He meant something very definite. It showed in every line of his haggard face.

"What is it, Boz? Never mind, that was stupid. Are you mad at us? Blink once for yes."

Murray understood, but his pain filled eyes stayed open.

"Not mad?" He blinked and Nick felt a flood of selfish relief. "Are you scared?" He blinked again and the relief vanished. "Of—of dying? Because you won't die, the doctor told us."

A muscle in his cheek twitched but he didn't blink.

"Do you believe me?" He held Nick's gaze so long that the other man was forced to look away first. He lowered his voice and said, "Well, you should. I wouldn't lie to you, babe. You're in a lot of pain and you can't think straight, but you're gonna get better fast. The doctor said you were strong; you're gonna be fine."

Murray took pity on them and blinked. He knew he wasn't strong on a good day, and today was about the worst he'd ever had. His whole body felt dead except for the pain and, more faintly, the pressure of Cody's hand in his. Then he felt Nick's fingers on his cheeks, felt wetness and realized he was crying. The shame further unnerved him and he closed his eyes.

"You should rest, Boz," Cody told him gently. "The nurse is going to chase us out in a minute, but we'll be back in the morning, okay? We'll be here when the tube comes out and—and it's okay. Everything's okay."

But Murray heard his voice breaking and didn't believe it. His friends were never scared. They weren't scared when he had pneumonia last winter or when Cody got stabbed by that client's jealous husband. He didn't think about the actions necessitated by those events. He didn't remember how he'd kept his own fear at bay caring for Cody while Nick ran down the man who hurt him, or how annoyed he'd been by their compulsive mothering when he was sick in bed. If his head had been clearer he'd have known that they needed to act and this occasion left them with nothing to do. If he'd thought about that, he would have pitied them but for the first time in his life he was so hurt and frightened he only feared for himself. He clung to Cody's hand and wept when Nick pulled it away. There was a sharp exchange of words and then the nurse was ordering them out. Murray didn't open his eyes.

***

"You couldn't give us one more minute?" Cody was shouting. "He was crying and you couldn't give us one minute to calm him down? What the hell kind of hospital is this?" Nick was trying to hustle him down the hall and the nurse looked scared, but Cody couldn't stop. This was all his fault and now he wasn't being allowed to fix it.

"It's over now," Nick said, low and firm. "Let's just get out of here before they ban us for good."

"It's not over. Murray needs us and they're going on about schedules and procedures like it's not important how he feels."

Nick was still fighting him, not wasting effort on words, when another set of hands grabbed Cody by the arm and yanked him around the corner.

"Stop being such a baby," Quinlan snarled, pushing him up against the wall. "You got that boy shot and now you're acting like it's you who deserves special treatment. That makes me sick."

For a few seconds no one spoke, and a hundred images flashed through Cody's mind. Quinlan writing parking tickets every time they stopped for coffee, calling them names (geek lovers was his personal favorite), that trick he used to pull where he offered to shake and then kicked them in the knees. He stopped doing that when Cody kneecapped him and knocked him off the boat that time, but it was still a treasured memory. Almost always, the cop was wrong and they were right. This would be one of Quinlan's few victorys, but he didn't seem to be enjoying it. Cody hung his head and the lieutenant let him go.

"What are you still doing here?" Nick asked, trying to sound friendly as Cody slumped against him.

"Same thing you are. You got a problem with that?"

"Not at all. We were just on our way home." He swallowed hard, unable to believe his next words even as he spoke them. "Did you see him?"

"He looks like shit. You two oughta be ashamed. Is that what you keep him around for? So you'll have someone to outrun?"

Cody's shoulders shook and Nick put his arm around him, not caring anymore how it looked.

"We've had a really long day, Lieutenant. But we appreciate your concern and I'm sure Murray does, too. Maybe tomorrow you can come by and feed him his lunch. And if you want to bring flowers, carnations are his favorite."

"If he dies, I'm having you both brought up on charges. Reckless endangerment, manslaughter—whatever the DA can get to stick."

"Good, you do that. Good night, Lieutenant."

In the elevator Cody stood apart, his head back, sniffing tears down his throat. He was going to cry a lot tonight but not yet. Not in the middle of the hospital.

"Hey, buddy, don't listen to him," Nick said uselessly. "He can't charge us with anything and Murray's not going to die anyway. He's just…"

"He's just what, Nick? It's Quinlan. What can he possibly be?"

"I don't know. I want to say scared. Didn't he look scared to you?"

"Yeah, but over Murray? Isn't that a little…"

"Weird, yeah. You know, I always suspected that guy had a deep dark secret. He's too big an asshole for it to come naturally."

"You think he's got a thing for Boz?"

"Maybe. I used to wonder if he had a thing for you. All those dirty little kneecappings and sucker punching looked like a six year old's version of flirting. I expected him to pull your pigtails next."

"That's sick. But it would explain why he hates you."

"Jealousy?"

"Uh-huh. You know, I bet you're right. I can see him with a skinny guy like Murray, being all protective and tough. Maybe a little S&amp;M, some light bondage on a Saturday night. Can't you picture Quinlan with a riding crop?"

"Easily. And Murray looks good tied to a table."

The words had their desired effect; Cody was laughing a little when they got off the elevator and still smiling as Nick used a payphone to call a cab. The Jimmy had been towed to a shop for new tires and they were going to pick it up in the morning. Assuming there was time. When Cody thought about morning he thought only of Murray and being there when the doctor came.

"You think Quinlan's going to stay the night?" he asked as they leaned against a cold wall, waiting for the cab.

"That'd really be weird, wouldn't it? But if he wants to it's okay by me. I wish they'd let us stay."

"Yeah, that never made sense to me. You'd think they'd know that sick people need their friends and family around. Murray's hurt and scared and they think it's better to leave him all alone. I can't understand that."

"You know how doctors are. They think everyone who isn't a doctor is stupid. Like we'll keep him awake all night or wander around the hospital causing trouble. I'd love to see them get past that someday and start letting the people who know the patients best help out."

"That'd be a real breakthrough," Cody agreed. "But he probably won't wake up again tonight anyway. Maybe tomorrow you can use that inarguable logic to get us in before visiting hours."

"Hey, no harm in trying."

***

But Murray did wake that night. He couldn't see well without his glasses and couldn't speak to ask for them, but if he could have there was someone there to ask. He couldn't quite make out who, but the figure stood close to the foot of his bed, short and barrel chested, not long and lean like his friends and lovers, watching him in the dim light from the doorway. Murray tried to draw his feet up, away from the stranger, and a bolt of pain shot down his right leg like lightening. He moaned softly around the tube in his throat and the figure came closer, almost into focus. A cool hand touched his forehead, smoothed back his shaggy hair the way Nick so often did.

"It's all right, Bozinsky," said a gruff, familiar voice. He squinted into the shadows, trying hard to make it out. He knew that voice. The name was right on the tip of his brain but it wouldn't come. He tried to reach out, but another bolt of pain slashed through his torso, leaving him breathless. A thick, calloused hand gripped his slender, soft one, held it for a moment, and then laid it down on the bed. "You be still and go to sleep or else I'll have to leave. You don't want to be alone, do you?"

He shook his head the tiniest bit, already drifting away. He didn't know who the stranger was but he didn't care anymore. The only thing that mattered was that he wasn't alone.


	2. Don't Fence Me In

Nick and Cody were there on the dot of eight, waiting outside Murray's door. When the nurse asked if they'd seen their friend, they didn't ask who she meant. She told them Murray was awake, but the doctor hadn't come yet. When they went in, he didn't look awake. His glasses were on, though, so he must have been at some point.

"Hey, Boz, you there?" Nick murmured, stroking his arm lightly. The tired eyes were dull and glazed but brightened when he recognized his friends. "Yeah, it's us. Don't try to talk. Are you feeling any better?"

He blinked once, the corners of his mouth twitching wryly.

"The nurse said you had a visitor. Someone we know?"

He blinked again, still trying to smile.

"But we don't know anyone," Cody said. "Too bad we don't have a chalkboard or he could tell us."

"Was it at least someone good?"

Murray's smile stretched the tape on his mouth but he didn't blink.

"Does that mean yes or no?" Cody asked and Nick shrugged. "Well who the hell do we know who'd be here at the crack of—," he paused, a queer smile twisting his mustache. "Or was it last night?"

Murray blinked.

"Say, Nick, who was the last person we saw when we were leaving last night?"

"Uh, that'd be Lieutenant Quinlan. Boz, did Quinlan come in here last night?"

He blinked again, still smiling. But it wore him out and the smile quickly faded.

"Good lord. If I'd known he was going to do that, I wouldn't have left. What did he want to do, peel back your bandages and put on some salt?"

Murray closed his eyes for too long to be blinking. When he looked around again, the doctor was there and his friends had backed away. He tried suddenly to move, reaching with his left hand, and Nick took it.

"Hang on, buddy. Hold still," he whispered. "The doctor's here. Do you know the doctor?"

He answered with a tiny shake of his head and the doctor introduced himself.

"Mr. Bozinsky, may I call you Murray?"

He blinked and the doctor turned to Nick.

"That means yes. Keep talking, he understands you. He's a smart guy."

"Yes, I know Murray. By reputation, at least. My kids play your games nonstop. My ten year old is so into computers, he named our dog after you."

"You named your dog Murray?" Cody asked, amazed.

"No, Boz. We call him Bozzer. I hope that doesn't offend you."

Murray smiled and blinked twice.

"I'm glad. Anyway, I'm here to get this tube out of your throat so you can ask me any questions you might have, and maybe talk to your friends for a while. How's that sound?"

He blinked again and this time the doctor understood.

"Okay, this'll hurt just a little," he said, peeling off the tape. Murray's mouth was red and raw underneath and Nick winced to see a little stubble pull out with it. "Sorry about that, Murray. This won't hurt but it might be a little uncomfortable. I want you to take a deep breath and blow when I pull on the tube, okay? Just blow it out."

That did hurt, but not because of the tube. His chest and belly felt tight, and when he had to cough the pain was immediate and sharp, drilling straight through his back. He coughed a long time, pulling his hand away from Nick to curl around himself. He couldn't bend his right arm because of the IV lines and Nick tried to hold him still. Murray shook his head, straining upright for more efficient coughing. After a second, Nick stopped fighting him and helped him up.

"That better, Boz? Can you breathe?"

"Water, please," was the first thing he said.

"No water yet. But you can have some ice," the doctor said. He handed Nick a cup of chipped ice with a spoon in it. Nick took out the spoon and fed Murray a piece of ice from his hand. Murray couldn't help sucking Nick's fingers, making the coolness last, and was dismayed when the hand went away.

"Nick?"

"You want more?"

"Please."

He gave him another bit of ice and Murray lay back again, eyes closed in near bliss.

"That's what we like to see," the doctor said, genuinely pleased. "Murray, is there anything you want to know? I have a hospital full of people waiting who are a lot sicker than you."

"When can I go home?" he asked hoarsely.

"Ambitious, aren't you? That's what gets a man through high school at thirteen."

"Enthusiasm is his strongest suit," Nick grinned.

"Well, that's good. Quitters don't recover worth a damn. And you are going to recover, in time. Maybe a week here and then three or four weeks in a rehab facility. Maybe up at Pine Harbor in Santa Monica. They have a wonderful program."

"A facility?" Nick and Cody said together.

"No," Murray said quietly. "I don't want that. I want to go home, to the _Riptide_."

"Riptide?"

"That's out boat. We live in King Harbor," Nick told him. "But I don't know how he'd manage on board."

"I don't think he could. But, as I said, it'll be at least a week before he can think about leaving the hospital. We'll find someplace good by then."

Murray didn't look hopeful. He wasn't terribly sophisticated, but he understood when he was being blown off. What the doctor meant was that the decision had already been made and they had a week to make him feel okay about it. He nodded without speaking.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay, Boz," Nick said when the doctor had gone. "The time's just going to fly and you'll be home before you know it."

"Yeah," he said vaguely. "Nick, can I have more ice?"

He gave it readily but Murray didn't suck his fingers this time. Something had changed and Nick didn't like it.

"Hey, Boz," Cody said gently. "Don't look like that, buddy. It's going to be okay."

"No it isn't. You left me behind to get shot yesterday and now you're going to put me away somewhere. It's okay, you don't have to lie to me."

They both winced, but he didn't see it. If he had he would have taken it as confirmation of their guilt.

"No, Murray, it's not like that. We're not 'putting' you anywhere." Cody was getting angry and trying to hide it. It was never a good idea to let Murray think someone was angry with him. "You just have to get well, that's all. It's not like—like Janie."

"It isn't?" he asked softly, his voice cold with disbelief.

"No, it isn't. And we're sorry as hell about yesterday," Nick put in. "You were right behind me, Cody had your arm, we thought it was all good. You know I'd rather get shot myself than see you hurt. Man, you _know_ that."

"Quinlan was here last night," he said in reply. "Every time I woke up, he was here. I thought I was dreaming at first, but at one point he was holding my hand. _Quinlan_ did that. Where were _you_?"

"They made us leave, Boz. Quinlan's a cop, he's got special privileges."

"Yeah, what do you want to bet he did it to make us look bad?" Cody muttered.

"Either of you would have stayed for the other. You have before. But when it's me, you go home. When it's me, a rehab facility is good enough."

"Murray, that's not…"

"You said you wouldn't. I _asked_ and you said you wouldn't." His voice broke and he started coughing. Pain slashed through his torso again, making him moan, bringing tears to his eyes. Strong or not, he was defeated. Murray fell back on his pillow and wept.

Nick stopped hesitating, stopped worrying about witnesses or doctors or anything besides Murray's fear. He dropped the bed rail, sat down and lifted the skinny man against his shoulder. Murray resisted at first, but he was too tired to fight long. Too tired to deny himself the comfort of Nick's broad chest and strong arms. Gentle hands slipped inside the flimsy gown to rub his back and gradually he grew calm.

Nick felt the tension leave his body and wondered if he was giving in or giving up. Suddenly he remembered the Pittbull frame-up and Operation Orange Grove. He and Cody had been a little embarrassed to introduce their geeky friend to the great general, a man they owed their lives to, and at first it seemed like Murray was determined to prove them right. But when it came right down to it, when he and Colonel Bozinsky were flying a gunship under fire, all the ineptitude and geekiness were gone. _Don't touch that_, he'd said. _It's complicated._ But Murray had designed it. _Target acquired. Permission to fire._ No fear or hesitation then, not even at the idea of blowing US Army personnel out of the sky. Not when his friends were being threatened. Nick had never liked to have Murray cover his back, had never trusted a gun in those tender, delicate hands, but the little colonel who couldn't put his eagles on right had proven to be a remarkably steady gunner. This broken man who lay sobbing in his arms had blown up an Army helicopter for him and never mentioned it again. _Target acquired. Missile away._ How had he even known? And the very next day they were treating him like a fool again.

Cody went to them, stood close by and stroked Murray's blood streaked hair. That was the worst part about the hospital, he thought. How they never let you wash when you really needed to. Cody wasn't thinking about Orange Grove. He hadn't been in the chopper then, and though Nick had tried to describe it, how strong and confident Murray was those few minutes, he didn't have the words to get the full impact across.

After a long time he spoke. "Boz, we're not going to send you away. If you can't go home we'll go with you. That's what we'd do for each other and we're going to do it for you. I promise, okay?"

"That's right," Nick said. "If Pine Harbor is the right place for you then we'll go there. We can berth in the harbor, right, and spend all day with you. You won't be alone, okay?"

"You'd do that?" Murray whispered.

"Good God, Boz, of course we would. We'd never let you go anywhere without us. You have to believe that. We wouldn't let this happen if it wasn't the best thing. Imagine trying to get around the boat on crutches. It wouldn't be like the time you sprained your ankle and you could just hold it up off the floor. There's not gonna be any middle ground between walking and not walking."

"You'd be better off without me, then."

"No way," Nick said harshly. "We did that, remember? We were without you for a long time and this is much better. It's not always easy, granted, but it's better. We love you and that's all there is to it, understand?"

"That's right, Mur. We'll take the boat up to Pine Harbor and maybe when you're stronger you can come out for the afternoon. You know, sit on the deck, have a beer, get a sunburn. It won't be like home but it's better than resisting and ending up a cripple. You have to get well, buddy, before things can get back to normal."

"I feel so bad, putting you guys through this. I almost wish I'd died and saved you the trouble."

"Oh God," Cody sighed, his voice full of tears. "Babe, if you'd died it would be so much worse. I don't think either of us could survive that. And you know we'd have spent the night if we could. Once you're out of intensive care we'll make a fuss and see if they'll let one of us stay."

"No. No, you don't have to do that," Murray said, sitting back and wiping his eyes. "I'll be okay."

"I know you will. All you have to do is decide to and you can be as strong as you need to be. The doctor told us…" he paused and looked at Nick, as if to ask if he should say it. Nick nodded shortly. "He said you have an unusually strong heart. That it should have stopped beating and it didn't. He said you were stronger than anyone thought."

"Really?"

"If I was going to blow smoke up your ass I'd tie you up first. Hey, is it true Quinlan was holding your hand? What was that like?"

"Not that different from holding hands with you. I don't know why he was here or what he wanted; I was just so glad not to be alone."

"But he was nice to you?"

"Yeah. I don't remember him talking much. Once he told me that if I didn't behave he'd leave me alone. He might have said that more than once, actually. I didn't recognize him at first, I just obeyed so he wouldn't leave. He was surprisingly—gentle."

"Wow, Murray's got a crush on Quinlan," Nick teased, making his skinny friend blush.

"Don't be silly. It was just—nice—not being alone. I'd rather have had one of you." He sounded sleepy, worn out by the fear and the crying, and Nick began to fuss with the blankets, making him more comfortable. He sent Cody to get a wet cloth from the bathroom and tenderly washed Murray's face and hands. If he could have, he'd have washed his hair, too, but Murray was falling asleep anyway.

Cody let him go on until he was sure Murray slept, then pulled him gently away.

"I think one of us ought to stay with him," he whispered. "We haven't got a lot going on right now, why don't you spend the day?"

"Yeah, that's a good idea. I'll stick with him today and maybe you can spend the night. Just until he gets less—depressed."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm going to miss you tonight, though."

"Me too. But it's not the same without Boz. I felt pretty bad sleeping with you last night, to tell the truth."

"Yeah, I kind of felt that, too," Cody sighed. "We've got to find a way to get him laid as soon as he's not hurting so bad."

"Maybe there'll be some privacy in Pine Harbor."

"I hope so. But my God, Nick, I don't want to see him go."

***

The next time Murray woke, Nick was sleeping in the chair by his bed. He reached for his glasses, but the table was just a little too far away and his wounded body wouldn't stretch that far. He would have let it go, but his throat was so dry it hurt and after a few minutes his steely resolve crumbled. He felt weak, hollowed out like a pumpkin on Halloween, and if Nick had mentioned Orange Grove it wouldn't have meant a thing. Murray called softly, hoarsely, and Nick leapt awake.

"Hey Boz. Hold on, don't move around so much. You want your glasses?"

"Please. And water."

"Sure. Doctor said you could have some since you're swallowing so well. But how're you feeling, buddy? You look pale."

"Tired," he mumbled. Nick put his glasses on him, but Murray's eyes still didn't focus. He gave up trying and allowed Nick to lift his head so he could drink. When the water touched his lips, he swallowed but never opened his eyes.

"Boz, look at me," Nick said, suddenly stern. "Murray, open your eyes and look at me."

There was no response. He stopped swallowing and the water spilled down his neck. Nick dropped the cup on the floor and swiftly turned Murray on his side so he didn't choke. The last thing he needed was another case of pneumonia. He rang for the nurse, lowered the head of the bed and tried again to get his friend to respond. When he got nothing he turned away, one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do, and ran outside in search of help.

Amazingly, the first person he saw was Quinlan.

"What are you doing, Ryder? Forget where the head is?"

"I need a doctor, right now. Not a nurse, a doctor."

"I'll find one," he said shortly. Quinlan was too brusque (or was it hostile?) to be ignored and he had a doctor headed that way in less than a minute. Then he went down the hall and found a phone.

"Allen? Quinlan here. You better get over to the hospital; Bozinsky's going south." He hung up before Cody could reply and then just stood there, leaning against the wall. A couple of minutes later he saw a crowd of people hustle into Murray's room and then hustle out again, pushing the skinny body on a gurney. He closed his eyes against it and when he opened them again Nick was standing beside him.

"He's, uh, bleeding. Doc says there was probably a minor laceration that they missed. It was clotted over and now the, uh—the clot's—broken."

"Assholes," Quinlan said gruffly. Nick didn't know who he meant.

"Yeah," he said, just to be safe. "Look, I oughta call Cody. He'll want to be here."

"Already did. I'm gonna go get some coffee. You want some?"

"Is that an invitation or a threat?"

"Take it however you want it." He turned and headed for the elevator. Nick had nothing better to do, so he followed. Cody was an hour away by car, even the way he drove, and Nick would be back by then. He couldn't imagine spending more than an hour alone with Quinlan. Fifteen minutes would be pushing it.

The lieutenant got a doughnut, too, and let Nick pay. Later it would seem to the detective that it was his last flare of cruelty before the truth came out, but that wasn't so. There was plenty more cruelty in store for later, when things were back to normal again.

For now, they sat together in the hospital cafeteria, sipping their coffee and trying to look at anything besides each other. After a long time, Nick cleared his throat and made an effort.

"Do you have some kind of special interest in Murray, Lieutenant? I'm just asking because I'm not used to being around you this much without getting arrested."

"I have my reasons."

"Yeah, I guessed that. Now I'm asking what those reasons might be. You have to understand my concern," he said, sounding surprisingly unworried. "I feel like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like maybe you're going to arrest me and Cody the second Murray dies, or just arrest Murray as soon as he's conscious enough to appreciate it."

"Well, you're half right. I told you yesterday, if the geek dies, you're going to jail. But I might be a sport and let you finish crying first."

"That's not much of a threat, Lieutenant." His voice was low and suddenly naked. "If he dies we'll be crying the rest of our lives."

"Good."

"Right. So can't you just come and pick us up then? And that doesn't explain what you were doing in his room last night."

"He's just a kid," Quinlan said, as if he didn't know. "A skinny little geek like that doesn't belong here. You give him a gun and let him get shot at; you got him living on the harbor when he can't even float. You two have been trying to get him killed for years and he thinks you're some kind of fucking heroes for it. Smartest damned geek on the planet and he can't see that you're gonna get him killed for nothing."

"Not for nothing. He's been safe and unhappy and he's been in danger and happy. Ask him some time which he prefers."

"Can't ask him anything now, can I?"

"You never let up for a minute, do you? How many times have we saved your life, now?"

"About as many times as you've busted my nose."

"Okay, so you think we're doing a lousy job of keeping Murray alive. That still leaves the question, what do you care?"

"I don't care. Just doing my job."

"Holding his hand in the middle of the night? I'd love to get a look at your job description."

"Never happened. He must have been dreaming."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Nick said and drank his coffee.

"He's better than you, Ryder. He's better than you and Allen and all your bum friends put together. Too good for you boys by a long, long chalk. It's not enough he gave up a great career to do your work for you and keep your asses out of the fire, he's gotta put you on a pedestal, too. Fucking colonel and you treat him like dirt."

That was a little too close to Nick's own thoughts about the Orange Grove case and Murray's capacity for decisive action. For a few minutes he'd been overwhelmed by his meek little friend's cool eye and steady hand, but then he'd forgotten it. The next day, Murray was just Murray again, a tousled nerd with a near fatal hangover. But that military gunner was still in there and Nick would do well to remember it. A guy who always, fucking _always_, did the morally right thing, deserved their respect no matter how scrawny he was or how badly he climbed fences.

"If I hadn't been worried sick on no sleep for the last twenty-four hours I'd bust your nose again," he said quietly. "But since I have been, I'll admit you're right. I—we—haven't always given him enough credit. And we've let him worship us more than we deserve. But he's always been happy. I don't understand it but it's the life he wants. When Cody first suggested bringing him in I thought he was nuts. I said 'why would Murray Bozinsky want to go in on anything with us?'

"But when we got there, when he saw us and he realized we'd come for him, that we wanted him, he didn't even ask why. I've never seen a guy so happy about anything in my life. Not even when we saved him from doing time in a military prison. He just packed up his shit and followed us. Now I grant you, if he hadn't done that he wouldn't be in surgery right now having his internal organs rearranged by some guy in a paper hat. But he wouldn't be happy, either. Like you wouldn't be happy if you weren't risking your life for your beliefs. Ever ask your wife what she thinks about that?"

"My wife left me years ago."

"I don't have a comeback for that right now. Can I get back to you later?"

"Do anything with it you want. Just don't forget, that kid thinks he can count on you. Time to stop letting him down." Quinlan got up, leaving his coffee cup behind. "I'm going to the can. Don't follow me."

Nick gave him time to get away, finished his coffee and went back upstairs. He was sitting in the waiting room when Cody got there, flipping through a magazine without seeing a single page.

"Quinlan called me. What's up with that?"

"I was going to but he beat me to it. I don't even know when." He threw the magazine aside and Cody caught a glimpse of the title. _Living Without Intestines_. Jesus. He sat down and put his arm around his friend.

"What happened? He didn't tell me anything, just said to come. Is Murray okay?"

"I don't know. We were talking and he passed out. Right in the middle of a drink of water. I hope to hell he didn't get any in his lungs but I don't know."

"So what did the doctor say? What's going on?"

"He's got some internal bleeding from somewhere. I guess it's not as bad as it could be. At first I thought it might be an infection, but anything bad enough to drop his blood pressure like that would kill him for sure. This way he's got a chance."

"A good one?"

"I sure hope so. What's funny is I just spent a half hour drinking coffee with Quinlan."

"That sounds like the set up for the worst punchline in history."

"Okay, so it's not literally funny. He laid a lot of guilt on me about all this. Said it was our fault because Murray worships us and we don't deserve it. He kept reminding me that Boz is a colonel, which I admit I've been thinking about a lot anyway, and that he's—well—he used the term 'better than you' a lot."

"You're right. That's not funny."

"I told you so. He also said his wife left him years ago. I'm telling you, the Louie's got a thing for Boz."

"No. No way. Quinlan and Murray? No."

"He didn't deny being in his room last night but he did say he never held his hand. You think Boz imagined that?"

"No," he said slowly. "But Quinlan wouldn't admit it no matter what. You think he wants people knowing he's got a soft heart?"

"Soft for Murray is what I'm saying. And no, he doesn't want that getting out."

"No. I just don't buy it. Murray's a sweet guy and Quinlan's right, he's too good for this business. I bet he just said all that to make you feel bad. If it was you in that bed he'd be saying it to Murray."

"Somehow I don't think so. Come on, it's not that big a stretch. We appreciate Boz, don't we? At least I thought we did."

"Sure we appreciate him. What's that got to do with anything?"

"Think about it. All that stuff we love about him, his brains and his heart, not to mention his hands and his mouth and those big soft eyes—is it too hard to believe other people might notice those things, too?"

"Well, no, but Quinlan? He's not gay, is he? Even if his wife did leave him."

"Or he left her. But, man, we're not gay either, right? I mean, if it weren't for you and Murray I'd be married with children by now. I've never been interested in other men, have you?"

"No. But that doesn't account for Quinlan suddenly developing a hard on for Boz. It's not like he lives with him. He doesn't know anything about his heart and not much about his brains."

"No, but he can see the rest. A guy with hands like Murray's doesn't need a brain."

"I don't want to argue against Murray's obvious attractions, you know I love him like crazy, but I'm not convinced."

"Think what you want. It doesn't matter anyway. Right now the more people we have on the job the better."

"Yeah, I'll give you that."

***

The surgeon found them two hours later, the same warm, grey haired man from yesterday. There was blood on his gown and they both tried hard not to look at it.

"I'm still optimistic," he said at once.

"With good reason?" Nick asked and Cody kicked him.

"Very good reason. We only had to give him two units of blood and he's off the respirator already. I'm sorry this happened, though. I'd like to have caught it yesterday when I was already in there, but these things can be tricky."

"Yeah, well, how much trickier is it going to get?" Nick asked and this time he sidestepped the kick.

"I understand your frustration, Mr. Ryder," he said gently. "Murray nearly died yesterday and then today it happened again. But he's going to be all right now. He's still strong and we were very careful."

"Should have been careful yesterday," Nick said and got kicked again. "Cody, stop it. I'm not wrong."

"No, you're not wrong," the doctor said. "But you also don't know all the circumstances. The wound was clotted so we didn't see any bleeding, and he was so fragile that no one wanted to keep him on the table while we poked around exploring. It might look like a mistake now, but it was a judgment call and I made it."

"See, that makes sense," Cody said. "So when can we see him?"

"Not long. He should be in his room in a half hour or so. I'll let the nurse know to let you both in."

"Thank you. And if you see our friend the cop, will you tell him what you told us? He's pretty worried."

"Sure. You can wait in his room if you want. It's more private."

That sounded like a good idea until they'd spent five minutes staring at the empty bed. Even knowing that he was coming back soon didn't make it any better. Or at least they thought not. If they'd tried thinking that he wasn't coming back they would have seen their mistake.

***

"Nick? Cody? Guys, where are you?" Murray asked, peering blurrily into the darkness. Or he thought he asked. What really came out was a slurred groan that didn't resemble any words the hearer knew. Although that wasn't unusual. Murray often said things this man didn't understand. A cool, rough hand touched his face and he turned blindly toward it.

"Nick? Is that you?" Again it was mostly unintelligible, but this time the name at least come through.

"Nick's not here. You thirsty, guy? There's some ice."

Murray nodded, his throat clicking as he swallowed. A chip of ice slipped into his mouth and he sucked it desperately. The oddly familiar hand brought him a second piece, running it lightly over his dry lips first, and he nearly wept.

"Who're you? Where are Nick and Cody?"

"Nick's not here and Cody's taking a break. It's okay, I'm not gonna hurt you." There was a sardonic laugh in the hard voice that Murray recognized but couldn't place at first.

"They left me again?" he whispered, a hard knot rising in his throat.

"They've been here all day. And Cody'll be back soon. Do you need more ice?"

"Please. And my glasses. I can't see."

"I don't know where they are. Here." He fed Murray another ice chip, not drawing back when the soft lips closed on his fingers. Murray didn't know who this was yet, but it didn't matter. He needed the cool moisture more than he'd ever needed any amount of dignity. "You're a sorry little pup, aren't you?" the stranger asked and suddenly he did know.

"Quinlan? What are you doing here?"

"What do you care? Do you want to be alone?"

"No," he whispered, ashamed.

"Did your friends teach you to be ashamed of that, Bozinsky? No man can survive alone. Even your buddies never would it made it through the war alone."

"They're brave."

"You're braver. It's easy to fight when you're strong and you've been taught how. It's easy to run and jump when you have the body. You don't have to be brave to do what you're good at. Brave is knowing you're going to get killed and doing it anyway."

"I still don't understand. You don't like me. What do you care if I'm alone?"

Quinlan pulled a chair over to the bed and sat down. He rested his forearms on the rail, his hands dangling so low that his fingertips nearly brushed Murray's arm. But not quite. Not when he was alert enough to really remember.

"My brother's name was Guy," he said quietly. "He was a lot younger than me and we didn't have a damned thing in common. I played football in high school and joined the army as soon as I graduated. He was a math whiz, a real geek-o. Science fair, chess club—kid wanted to be a physicist. Got beat up every day, just about, until I started kicking ass on his behalf. But that didn't mean I didn't kick his ass myself, every chance I got. I was ashamed of him and he knew it."

"That's too bad," Murray said sleepily. "Did you ever make up?"

"No. He died in a hunting accident while I was in country. I didn't even get home in time for the funeral. The point is, he hated hunting and killing. He only did it to be like me, so I'd respect him. That kid had a brain that could have changed the world and it got splattered all over a clearing in the California woods because some drunken asshole was playing with his rifle instead of his gun."

"His—his what?"

"You really are naïve, aren't you? Hard to believe you're a colonel."

Murray suddenly understood and managed to summon enough blood to his face for a decent blush.

"Can I have more ice?" he murmured. "Thank you. But I'm not a colonel. Not really."

"What does that mean? If those two morons were lying…"

"No, my eagles are real. But I didn't earn them like a real soldier. Specialists all went in as officers, you know that, and we got promoted for easy things like programming computers. Otherwise they wouldn't have let me serve at all." He spoke softly, not opening his eyes.

"Everyone did what he was good at, Bozinsky. I checked you out, you know. I know what you did, those laser sites and targeting systems—if you'd gone into combat you'd be like my brother. A really useful brain spattered all over hell. And I'm betting the Army agrees, Colonel. Those bastards are too stingy with promotions to hand them out to losers. Especially during peacetime."

"That's what I keep telling him," Cody said from the doorway. "And I've seen him shoot up a helicopter. And my boat."

"Your boat, huh? Good work, Bozinsky. I'd make you general for that if I could." He stood up and patted Murray's shoulder briefly. "Goodnight, boys."

Cody stepped aside to let him out and closed the door.

"Where'd he come from, Boz?"

"I don't know, I was asleep. Where were you?"

"I went to the john and then took a little walk outside to wake up. I'm sorry, sweetheart," he said gently, leaning down to kiss him. "It seems like we're never around when you need us."

"You saved my life. You're always there when I need you."

"We always try to be. Good thing you have Quinlan for when we're not."

"I never guessed he'd have a sad story like that."

"Well, I didn't hear it, but everyone has a sad story. Go around treating people like crap all the time and you're going to have a shitty history. That's why you're such a happy guy. Nothing to feel bad about."

"I wish I hadn't had to shoot down that helicopter."

"Sure you do," Cody said, kissing him again. Then he sat down and took Murray's hand. "But you had to, you didn't just do it for fun. Although it made a beautiful explosion."

"Yes, it did, didn't it?" he said vaguely. "I sure love you, Cody. I wish I could go home."

"So do I. Believe me, I'd take you home tonight if I could."

"I know. I'm sorry about all that stuff I said before, about you leaving me behind. I know it's not true. I was just so—so…"

"Yeah, I know. It's okay, babe. We've all been there. It's the kind of thing that happens between friends, and lovers, and you don't ever have to apologize."

"Yes, I do. It's how I show respect."

"You show me plenty of respect. Now go to sleep, huh? You've got a lot of resting to do if you want to go home."

"Cody?" he whispered, almost asleep.

"Yeah, Boz?"

"Do you think Pine Harbor's as nice as King Harbor?"

"It's beautiful. You're going to love it."

***

Nick and Cody were both there when he woke in the morning. As soon as he opened his eyes, one put his glasses on him and the other began bathing his face with a cool cloth. He purred under the attention until he remembered where it was coming from. Then he became humble and asked them to stop.

"Nope, not up to you," Nick said cheerfully. "We got permission to fix you up before you go to your new room."

"Oh. Oh, that's nice. I guess I wouldn't mind a shave, if you have time."

"You bet. Just lie still and let us take care of everything. Cody, put the Do Not Disturb on the door."

"I hope you guys aren't planning anything," he said weakly. "I'm awfully tired and I still have a catheter."

Both men winced in sympathy. The last thing a guy with a catheter wanted was an erection.

"We'll be careful," Nick said, not laughing. "But if you start feeling frisky let us know and we'll stop."

"Thanks," he murmured, not hearing the joke. But he needn't have worried. The gentle hands on his face were so relaxing, even the idea of a razor in someone else's hands didn't bother him. It was probably the morphine but he kept dozing off, waking a little when they moved around him but not really paying attention. They took off his gown and bathed his slender body, giving the bandages wide berth. Cody spent a long time stroking his chest and belly, careful not to tickle, while Nick wet his head with a washcloth and combed out the blood. He didn't know why there was blood in Murray's hair, perhaps one of them had smeared it on him immediately after the shooting when they were trying to get his clothes off and check the wounds. It was funny how blood seemed to get everywhere. Neither of the guys had had a proper shower since then and they still had Murray's blood under their fingernails.

They went over him again and again, touching every inch of his skin, as he drifted in and out on hazy waves of sleep. Occasionally he opened his eyes, smiling at their intent expressions, moaning softly under their soothing hands. It wasn't sexual, it wasn't any more than they would have done before he was their lover, but he felt the added intimacy. He felt safe and fearless with nothing to hide. It was almost as good as being tied up. He wondered how long it would be before he was well enough to play again and, wondering, he fell asleep.


End file.
